Pinpoint
by FuryEnder
Summary: Widowmaker only has to take one shot. But, is that shot really worth taking?


"What do you want?" I asked. I didn't like being disturbed, especially when I've settled down. Sniping is a task that requires your full attention. I couldn't waste my time talking.

"Just to provide some company." Hanzo sat down cross-legged next to me, his bow slung across his back. His quiver only had one arrow, which was strange but I didn't dwell on it.

I turned back towards the target. Former Overwatch agents were at a meeting, undoubtedly discussing how to deal with the Talon threat. Among them were Winston, Mercy, and Tracer.

Tracer.

The girl was perky as usual, her annoyingly exaggerated accent ringing in my head.

_Psst._

_Hey. _

_Wotcha lookin' at, luv? _

My grip on the rifle tightened and my finger touched the trigger. I could feel Hanzo stiffen next to me as he realized who my target was. My finger pressed down lightly on the trigger, before I press down.

_Ping._

I watched with astonishment as the bullet, which arced across the courtyard, simply bounced off the glass. Quickly, I unloaded the magazine, and looked inside. They were dummy bullets. I pulled one out, feeling the rubber. Turning it over, I was suddenly irritated, something I haven't been in a long time. There was a tiny inscription on the sides that read, "_What are you looking at, love?"_

Tracer. The nerve of that girl, to replace _my_ bullets with rubber. I went through all my remaining magazines, they were _all_ rubber. Every. Single. One. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hanzo stifling a laugh.

"What's so funny?" I asked calmly, but I couldn't keep a note of anger out of my voice.

Hanzo placed a hand over his mouth, hiding his smile. "Tracer's trick was good."

"Ferme la bouche." I told him.

Hanzo shook his head, grinning widely as he turned back towards the building. The meeting was still being conducted, and no one seemed to notice that I had just tried to kill one of their operatives. I simply stared, now that I had no bullets to use I couldn't complete the mission. Unless…

"Hanzo, hand me your bow." I commanded. I had experience with bows. They weren't as good as a sniper rifle, but they would do. I've seen how Hanzo's arrows pierced glass, so I didn't doubt the quality of his bow.

"What are you going to do?" Hanzo asked, his hand poised over his bow. I knew he didn't want to give me the bow. He had come for a different reason, a reason I didn't know. I didn't care. I also came here for a reason, and I was going to accomplish my goal no matter what.

"Eliminate Tracer." I answered, reaching for his bow myself. He swatted my hand away.

"Why do you kill, Widowmaker?" He asked.

"I follow orders." I replied simply. I reached yet again for the bow, but again he swatted my hand away. I was slightly irritated, we were wasting time. The meeting was half over, and I still had not eliminated her.

"Why do you follow those orders?" Hanzo asked yet again. His questions made no sense.

"Because… I…" I struggled with my answer. Why _do _I follow orders?

"What does her death accomplish?" Hanzo asked, leaning in closer and lowering his tones.

"I don't… it's just…" I hesitated, my mind racing. I didn't know why her death was important. Talon wanted it, and I followed their orders. I was an assassin, I didn't question a superior. But…

"Do _you _want her to die?" Hanzo asked, his voice merely a whisper. He had taken his bow off his shoulders and his one arrow and pressed them into my hands.

"I…" I glanced at back down at the meeting. They had all gotten up, and it seemed like the meeting was nearly over. My assassin instincts kicked in, taking the bow and arrow I notched the arrow and raised the bow. Pulling the string back, I aimed it directly at Tracer's heart.

"Who are you, Amélie or Widowmaker?" Hanzo asked.

Tracer was smiling, her smile radiant. Mercy said something, and she laughed. Her eyes glowed. My heart skipped a beat. Why did she make me feel this way? What was this emotion that I felt? I felt confused and disoriented, and her voice kept on repeating a single line in my head over and over.

_Wotcha lookin' at, luv?_

I pulled the string back even more, but then I remembered her laugh. Her sweet, sweet laugh that reminded me that every night has a day. My will crumbled, and I dropped the bow. It hit the ground, and as I watched, the meeting disbanded and the members left the room. Tracer lingered, staring at a portrait on the wall. Seemingly entranced, she walked over to it. Her fingers slid down the edges, and she smiled a sad smile.

When I looked at the portrait, I gasped in shock. A young woman that looked to be in her twenties stared out, her long hair in a ponytail and her face gave a happy smile. Her eyes were amber, and her face was smooth and beautiful. Amélie Lacroix.

Me.

Tracer gave a sigh, her eyes lingering on the portrait for a while, before she turned around and left. My eyes were still on the portrait, and the woman that once was. Hanzo stared as well, looking between me and the painting, as if trying to find any similarities. He was trying to find if I had any humanity left, if I was still Amélie.

I stood up and left abruptly, taking my sniper rifle. I left so I wouldn't have to see what I used to be. _Who_ I used to be.

The first tear splashed onto the floor.

The first of many.

* * *

**I ship Widowmaker/Tracer so much.**

**-FuryEnder**


End file.
